


A little Dominance

by HardiganCaptain



Series: Fic Exchanges [4]
Category: Warrior (2011)
Genre: Dominance, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardiganCaptain/pseuds/HardiganCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dominant Tommy. For letshaveahardyparty. Careful this one kind of got away from me and it’s long… Oops</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little Dominance

You’re not sure what woke you up, you hadn’t even meant to fall asleep sprawled out on the bed from where you’d thrown yourself on top of it. You’d just needed to face plant into something soft and scream a bit, didn’t want to startle the neighbors, but the day had apparently caught up with you. Rolling onto your back you stare at the ceiling before sitting up and rubbing your hands over your face. Sudden naps could be the absolute worst.

While you’re looking around for your phone you see him, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. His feet are planted apart, legs spread, as he slouches in the chair. Slacks pulled tight across his thighs you can’t help but blink slowly, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath the white wife beater that conforms to the muscular planes like a second skin. You suddenly feel very self conscious in your wrinkled button up shirt, one pants leg twisted around your knee.

“Hey, Tommy. I didn’t know that you were home. Why didn’t you wake me up?” you have to clear your throat twice just to get the words out, once because sleep made it too thick, then again because those eyes slid down to where your shirt had gaped open as you turned to face him.

“Didn’t feel like it.”

The words are empty but the look in his eyes isn’t, there’s heat there, simmering and making his eyes dark as he lifts them to your face. Your legs squeeze together when he shifts, leaning to the side, his hand lifting to cup his jaw as he keeps watching you. You’ve got this sudden urge to pull the blankets from the bed and cover yourself, not that he’s done anything but stare, but you feel damned vulnerable under that gaze.

”You hungry?” there’s a tinge of desperation to your voice as you toss the offer out into the air. Can’t seem to bring yourself to look away from his eyes, licking your lower lip before pulling it beneath your teeth.

“Not particularly, no.” his eyes didn’t move but you’re sure that he saw the nervous gesture, jaw working slowly, the toothpick rolling along his lower lip as he moves it to the other side of his mouth.

Jesus, his mouth, those full lips are dry and all you can think of is how they feel trailing down your neck, brushing over yours when he makes you scream his name, pressing against your temple as you tremble from the aftermath. Your throat goes dry as his fingers slowly move along his cheek, settling against the edge of his mouth before moving back again. You shift on the bed, a steady ache building between your legs.

“Something to drink, then?”

“No.” you’re hypnotized by the way the lips curl to form the word, startled by the realization that you’ve been staring at his mouth this entire time.

Taking a deep breath to try and shake it off, you make the mistake of looking in his eyes again. Weren’t they an odd mix of green and blue, a kind of hazy colour? All you can see now is black, his face half in the shadows as the sun is almost set. Moments away from squirming to try and chase the burn that’s spreading throughout your body you slowly move towards the end of the bed. It takes you a good minute to get your feet to the floor because you’re half paralyzed beneath that heady gaze, you’re not even sure he’s blinked once.

“Well how about-” your sentence trails off as he slowly shakes his head, the smallest of movements but you catch it and settle back on the bed after already moving to stand.

“Shirt.” when you just sit there staring at him, your mouth falling open a bit as you try to get your brain to translate, he slowly raises an eyebrow. “Shirt.”

“What?” God you feel thick, like your brain is full of cotton, but your gaze is locked on the way his hand falls away from his face to rest on his thigh. The way the other slides to join it as he rests his elbows on his thighs to lean forward, his torso rolling in one smooth motion. It’s the fact that every movement is like that, slow, deliberate, that has your breath catching in your chest.

“Take it off, babe. You look a bit flushed.”

“I’m fine.” the words are half strangled, the heat on your cheeks flaring. You’re not even sure you could figure out the row of little buttons without fumbling like a teenager.

“I wasn’t askin, was I?” he does blink then, just once, almost cat like slow before looking down to where your hands are curled tightly clenching the blanket. It wouldn’t be so hard to breathe if there was any hint of emotion on his face, a slight curl of his lips, maybe a bit of crinkling near his eyes, but there’s not. “Shirt.”

“Tommy-” the argument dies in your throat when his head tilts to the side, just a fraction and he takes in a breath that he lets slowly out his nose.

You hands are shaking as you lift your hands to the top button, lowering your gaze in hopes that watching what you’re doing will help you accomplish it without looking like a total idiot. Pausing at the soft noise that comes from his corner, eyes flying to his face in confusion at the subtle shake of his head. Flicking your gaze between the two you finally stare at him at a loss.

“When do I ever start at the top?” his voice is low, a rumble coming from his chest as his fingers curl then straighten. “Start at the bottom.”

“What? But that doesn’t-“

His expression doesn’t change but the sentence trails off regardless. You can’t help the way your mouth moves as though still trying to complete the already lost thought, sucking lightly on your bottom lip as you tug your shirt loose from the waistband of your pants. A soft feeling of relief slips through you at the slight breeze brushes over your heated skin, fingers moving to the first button. They slip, twice, before you finally force it through the hole, moving up and getting two more before you fumble again.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. You can feel him watching your face, not your hands, but you know he sees that too. Finally they’re all undone and you feel ridiculously accomplished over such a small thing, that you can’t help smiling to yourself. A bit of confidence filing you, you roll your shoulders letting it slide down your arms while staring at him from beneath your lashes.

A small smile curls his lips for a moment before disappearing, settling back in the chair again, an arm sliding up the inside of his thigh to settle on the arm of the chair. You’re reaching behind you to undo the bra too when he coughs lightly, shaking his head with a subtle gesture.

“Pants.” standing you fight the heat that’s staining your cheeks again, your fingertips almost numb as you reach for the fastening, his hand lifting to catch your attention, “Slowly, yeah?”

You’re not entirely sure how you even get them undone, not with the way his eyes are slowly travelling down the length of your body. The pleased rumble coming from him makes you shiver, turning when he lifts his hand again and spins the top of his finger in a slow circle. Pushing them down over your hip, you glance over your shoulder at him as you bend to push them down to your ankles.

“Just like that, good girl.” your knees almost give out at the sound of his husky drawl, slowly moving until you’re standing straight again.

You’re glad, for a moment, that you were able to tear your gaze away, staring down at the floor while you try to still your racing heart. It should not be this fucking attractive, you shouldn’t be this aroused when he hasn’t even touched you. But you can’t help but feel his fingers trailing over your skin on those occasions he takes his sweet time, the way his lips shadow his fingers, soft kisses and sharp nips. The rasp of his unshaven cheek on your throat as his hands slide along your legs to pull them around his waist in the morning after he’s come back from his run.

The soft sound of clothing rustling, a low rasp, has you turning so fast you’re dizzied by it. At first you can’t see anything different and it takes you a moment to realize he’s taken off his belt and has it folded in half neatly across his knees. You sink to sit on the bed, the rush of lust that just pulsed through you almost sent you to the floor. His fingers trail over the faded leather, eyes locked on yours, and suddenly there’s a hint of humor on his lips though it’s dark and turning your insides to an absolute mess.

“Here, now.”

You almost tell him you won’t, no not that you won’t but you can’t, but the look in his eyes has you moving. The rolling glide of your hips has less to do with you trying to be seductive and more to do with the fact that longer strides would cause too much friction. His hand lifts to trail down your hip, fingers skimming your thigh before pulling away. Even that little touch has you shivering, your breath hitching, as try to figure out what he wants you to do next.

Apparently he just wants you closer, his eyes locked on yours for a moment before trailing downwards. Your fingers clench at your sides, feel that hot gaze like it was his fingers, a fine tremble starting along your body.

“What did you do today, babe?”

“Nothing? I- I don’t really remember-“

“No reason to use this then?” There is every reason in the world, you think to yourself as he lifts it, sliding it along his other palm, fingers sliding along the edges of it. “Sit down.”

You hesitate, not sure if he meant the floor, the arm of the chair, his lap, and he’s anything but helpful as he stares up at you with that smile that’s promising you dark things you’re not sure if you’ll survive. Finally you perch yourself on the arm of the chair, your feet resting on what bit of cushion you can find between his thighs. Your back is straight, hands fidgety on your lap as you stare at the wall because meeting those eyes again will probably kill you.

“You’re beautiful, like that.” the words are a low murmur, slipping over your skin like velvet, his hand curling around your arm to pull your wrist to his mouth, brushing his lips against the frantic pulse. “It’s nice to come home just as the sun is goin down, makes your skin gleam. I like it.”

“Thanks,” your voice is hesitant, a bit shaky as he nips at the veins showing just beneath your skin.

“I also really like it when you’re in the bed waiting for me.” 

You don’t move at first, enthralled with the hot breath trailing over your skin, the way the brush of his lips is sending tiny electric shocks up your arm. But he’s stopped talking, his eyes rolling up to stare at you and you realize that was another order. Blinking slowly under that steady gaze you slip off the arm of the chair and slowly crawl onto the bed before stretching out on your stomach. You’re arms reach out, your feet straightening as you try to concentrate on calming down and not the fact that you could probably commit murder if it meant having him straddle your legs and press kisses down your spine, run his hands up your legs to grip your hips and angle you to slowly grind against you.

Rolling onto your back you scoot on the bed till your shoulders rest against the headboard, your hands resting low on your stomach as you lightly trail your fingers over the skin. When he raises an eyebrow at you, that damn toothpick bobbing slowly at the edge of his mouth, you slide your fingers lower, running your fingertips over yourself. Encouraged by the low groan, you lift your hips and press harder, the thin fabric denting as you slide your other hand up to cup your breast. You hear the chair creak, opening your eyes to look over and find that the fingers of one hand are digging into the arm of it though his expression hasn’t changed.

“Tommy?” his name is a husky thing on your lips, smooth, supple, as you move your hand to slip beneath the fabric to slowly stroke yourself with one finger. Not enough to satiate the burning need but enough to take away the sharp edge that’s been killing you.

Another soft sound comes up from his chest and you’re not sure what it was but it makes you smile as you add a second finger. There’s a quiet hush as your knuckles move against the fabric, your fingers pumping and twisting, hips lifting in time with them, teasing yourself.

“Stop.”

“What?” a quiet gasp when you hit that certain spot that makes your whole body quake as you chase release.

“Stop.” 

You can’t help the incredulous look you send him, loathe to do what he says when you can’t move your legs without sending shocks of pleasure through your system. Slowly, insolently, you drag your fingers out, pressing a fingertip against your clit just for that last little taste that he’s telling you that you can’t have. He leaves you there, panting, your body shivering with frustration until you’re still.

“Again.”

“Tommy, please, can’t you just-“

“Didn’t ask you if you liked it, did I?” his voice is cold, the drawl sharp as glass on your skin as you shift on the bed.

This time you don’t hesitate, your toes curling as you chase your release in case he tries to stop you again, but just as you reach it he stops you, over and over. You could always push on, ignore the soft spoken word, the gruff order but you don’t. Sweat is slicking your skin, your breath coming in sharp gasps, so sensitive that you don’t want even your underwear against you. Your body won’t stop shivering for want of release, a soft mewling sound is a constant coming from your throat as you try to hold still and let the over stimulation pass.

“Don’t move.”

Not a chance in hell of that being a problem, the blanket beneath you is causing issues, the folds where you’d bunched it beneath you aren’t helping anything. His pants hang low on his hips, a thin line of skin peaking through as he stands, walking toward you with the belt hanging from his hand and tapping against his calf. Closing your eyes against the sight you’re not prepared for the soft brush of skin warmed leather sliding over your clit through your soaked underwear. The chuckle he lets out when your hips arch, a choked sound forcing itself out between clenched teeth,

“Does it hurt?” his tone is soothing and so much closer than you expected.

Opening your eyes you find him leaning over you, his breath breezing over your cheeks. Surprised to find his hand resting on the edge of the bed, you had been so busy suffering you hadn’t even noticed. Nodding your head in a few quick jerks you lick your bottom lip, staring up at his mouth, watching the way the tooth pick bobs up and down as he smiles.

“Good,” pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, the end of the toothpick scratching the skin, he stands up tossing the belt to the chair. “Suppose you’re a bit raw, ain’t you?”

Another nod, your fingers twisting in the fabric at your sides as he moves to the end of the bed, nudging your foot with his knee. Opening your legs is hard, the muscles rigid and unyielding, but you finally manage it, gasping when he kneels between them the steady shift of the mattress sending a soft pulse of pure need through your system. His rough palms sliding up your calves has you writhing on the bed, a low whimper when he cups them and bends your knees.

“You’re soaked, bet if I licked you just once you’d shatter.” his hand slips around your leg, fingers dragging as he moves up your thigh, smiling at the tremble of your inner thigh. “A million pieces, am I right, so sensitive if I blew on it you’d probably scream.”

You can’t help shifting away from the touch, your fingers aching from the grip you have in the blanket. The smile slips from his lips as he pulls you back, his eyes on yours as he slowly rolls the underwear down your legs before gently slipping your feet free. Winking at you as he leans down and blows just a soft gust against you, your hips thrust upwards, spine bowing.

“Nah, you ain’t even worked up yet, not even a peep,” his hands grip your hips, lifting them up leaving you supported by your shoulders and the tips of your toes before turning his head and sending the tooth pick hurtling from his mouth. 

The long lick with the flat of his tongue makes you whimper, his fingers digging as he does it again and again, curling it to press against your clit. Your hips fall to the bed just as his name starts falling from your lips on desperate gasps and whines. The unmistakable sound of his zipper slowly being pulled down making you shake, you’re not going to survive this, you know it, and going by the way he smiles at you he knows it too. Pulling your hips onto his thighs, he thrusts slowly, dragging the hard length along the line of you until you’re choking on the scream building in your throat.

“I wanna hear you beg for it.” the steady stroke, the unforgiving dig of his fingers and he still sounds calm, it’s damned unfair, “Tell me how much you want it babe, tell me you want me to bend you in half and fuck you like I mean to break you. I’m not gonna unless you can convince me that you need it.”

“Please? I just-” fuck eloquence, you can’t remember what a sentence is with that steady rub, the muscles of his thighs tensing with each thrust. “Tommy. Don’t do this. Just… Fuck. Are you serious?!”

Your back arches when he slowly slides the head of cock inside you, rolling your hips in his hands to try and slide it in deeper only to have him let it pop back out again. 

“Close, babe. But not what I was looking for…”

He’s doing it again, that slow steady rub, your legs are wrapped around his waist trying to pull yourself closer. It’s not the shameless words falling from your lips that finally win the slow vicious thrust you’re chasing after, but the way your hand slides over his, across your hip to stroke the hard length of him.

“Tommy…”

Whatever you were going to say disappears, trailing off into a scream as he rises up onto his knees to thrust into you hard enough your legs slip from his hips. His slacks scratching the back of your thighs as his hands curl around back of your knees, pushing them up, your calves resting on his shoulders. Each thrust is brutal, slammed in, his pelvis crushing yours as your fingers find his forearms and rake the skin trying to find purchase.

The word please is falling from your lips between sharp whines, his shoulders rolling, sending your legs down his sides as he moves over you. His lips crash against yours, all teeth and sharp suction, his thrusts long and it hurts being so close for so long that your nails break skin when you come. His teeth are in your neck when you through your head back, a hand sliding to cup your breast before digging into the pliant flesh, pounding into you even as you try to squirm away from the too raw sensation.

“Does it hurt?” You’re almost not lucid enough to understand the question, your fingers scrabbling at his back leaving claw marks in their wake. “Tell me, does it hurt?”

“Yes, fuck, yes it fucking hurts!”

“Should I stop, babe?” his voice is husky, his tongue flicking the line of your ear even as he seems to thrust harder against you.

“No, no please, don’t-“

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he mutters pulling back to grip your hips and pulling you into each thrust before suddenly pulling out and stroking himself rapidly.

The semen practically burns on your lower stomach and thighs, your body writhing even as it aches with the movement. The low grunts make you whine though you couldn’t say why, your back arching as he trails his fingers through the mess and holding it to your lips. Your tongue darts out, a quick swipe cleaning most of it away, your eyes catching the shiver that runs through the muscles of his chest.

Pulling off his shirt his touch is gentle as he wipes you clean, tossing it across the room towards the bathroom. Hands settling on either side of your head he lowers himself to brush his lips against yours, slowly lowering the rest of his body to lay over yours drawing a gasp from you.

“You okay?”

“No…”

“You gonna be okay?” his lips skim your cheek, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he fully settles between your legs, his skin hot like a brand against yours.

“No. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay after that.” You can’t help grinning in response to the chuckle that rumbles through him, turning your head to lightly sink your teeth into his shoulder.

“Well if you can’t walk, you ain’t leavin then are you?” there’s a hint of something dark in his tone beneath the playful one and you wrap your arms around his torso.

“Oh Tommy…”


End file.
